corazon
by nondescriptf
Summary: Future fluff fic. Post-epilogue outtake from "The Lengths He Would Go" universe. Oneshot. A bit Chuck-centric. C/B.


**A/N: This is from the "The Lengths He Would Go" universe, but it's not necessary to have read that story first. ****Keeping in line with the theme of that fic, the title of this fic and a couple of quotes comes from episodes of Criminal Minds, and are noted at the end of the story. Also, 'corazon' is the Spanish word for 'heart'.**

**I hope you enjoy it, and thank you for reading.**

**And of course, thank you to my amazing beta, uncorazonquebrado, this outtake is dedicated to you.**

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_**Ten years later—April 2029**_

"You know how overwhelmed Serena gets when she has too many options. So, I think I'm going to start house hunting next week, and narrow it down to a select few before surprising her with the news," Nate surmised with a loud sigh. He turned over and looked at his friend. "What do you think? That's the best way to go about this, right?"

Chuck shrugged. He had an opinion all right, he just didn't think that Nate would appreciate hearing what he _really_ thought.

"Even thinking about all this shit has me stressed out," Nate confided, before he glanced around surreptitiously. Lowering his voice, he said, "Stressed out enough that I brought my one hitter. What do you say—want a hit? For old times' sake?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Chuck asked in disbelief. "It's the middle of the day, and I don't know if you've noticed, but our children are mere feet away!" He gestured at the jungle gym approximately fifteen feet in front of them for emphasis.

Nate rolled his eyes. "Seriously, you're more uptight than Blair, sometimes. I think _you_ need a toke more than _I_ do. And fuck, I really want one."

Chuck shook his head.

"C'mon, Blair and Serena don't get back for two more days, they're _not_ going to find out. Stop acting like such a saint," Nate moaned. Suddenly, there was a hint of mischief in his blue eyes. "You used to have a sense of adventure. Since when is my boy afraid of his wife?"

It was Chuck's turn to roll his eyes. "I'm not afraid of Blair."

"If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck…" Nate taunted.

Chuck snorted. "Nathaniel, please. Blair is well aware that you and I indulge with an occasional herbal refreshment. And no, I don't ask for her _permission_ to do so. You see, it's this thing called honesty."

"It's not like we'll be stoned or anything, we're barely going to be buzzed, even," Nate whined, ignoring the insult. "You think that miniscule amount of weed is going to impair our ability to walk our children home and eat dinner? You are officially a killjoy."

"I wouldn't mind taking a hit," Chuck admitted. "But I don't want Brynn to even get the slightest whiff of it on me. I mean, there's no way she'd even know what it is, but still..."

"Fine, I suppose Serena wouldn't be thrilled if Hunter asked her why his Dad smelled funny," Nate conceded. "And neither would I. Way to make me feel like an irresponsible jackass."

"God, remember what Blair used to be like when we first started lighting up?" Chuck veered the topic to friendlier ground. Thinking about the eleven year old version of his wife, wrinkling her nose in disdain, brought a smile to his face.

"Natie, what is that _rancid _smell?" Nate did an imitation of Blair, using a high pitched voice. "Bass, this is your doing, you are _such_ a bad influence."

Both men chuckled, Blair had never been one to mince words.

"Now that I think of it," Nate said a beat later, "All of this is your and Blair's fault."

"How so?"

"Well, if Serena didn't want to have another baby, then there would be no need for us to move," he answered. "I thought Hunter and Topher were more than enough. But she's so jealous that you guys have Brynn, she's insisting we try one more time, to see if we can have a girl of our own."

"I see how your needing to move, is clearly our fault," Chuck humored his friend. "Do you even want another kid?"

Nate shrugged.

"That doesn't sound like an endorsement."

"I'm not opposed to having another one, but Topher's almost four. We're far removed from the diapers, midnight feedings, and potty training is nearing its end. I don't think Serena realizes what she's asking."

Chuck was reminded of the incident last year, when Brynn's sing-along DVD had been left in his laptop and had played during an investment meeting. Fortunately for him, it had forged a camaraderie between he and the potential client, who had a pair of five year old twins and was very familiar with that specific disc. He shot his friend a sympathetic smile, "Have you told her?"

Nate sighed. "I've never been able to deny Serena anything she wants. Plus, I see the way Brynn has you wrapped around her finger—."

Chuck snorted. "Brynn has _everyone_ wrapped around her finger, you included, Uncle _Natie_."

"That she does," Nate said with a smile. "But what would you say if Blair decided she wanted another one? Can we say lifestyle adjustment?"

Chuck opted not to answer, considering that his sister had already infected Blair with her babymania. Just last week, Blair had started hinting that maybe they should discuss the possibility of a third child. Much like his best friend, saying 'no' to his wife was something that didn't come easily. His main concern was the fact that Blair had spent the final three months of her pregnancy with Brynn on bed rest. There had always been that underlying fear that the second pregnancy would end with him losing Blair or the baby, or worse—_both_. Fortunately, both mother and daughter had emerged unharmed. And of course, there was Cole to consider, their son was turning nine later this year. It almost felt too big of an age gap to inflict upon their firstborn. Not to mention the fact that Chuck _loved_ the current configuration of their family. The Basses were_ perfect_ as they were, and he was loathe to do anything that would change that.

"Exactly!" Nate said triumphantly in response to Chuck's silence. "Truth is though, I know the minute Serena gets pregnant, I'll be thrilled. I hated being an only child, so really, the more the merrier. Plus, having a little girl of my own will stop me from spoiling Brynn so much. I just don't want to look for a new place to live, it took us almost a year to find our place now."

"There's an easy solution to all of this."

"What's that?"

"Tell your mom you want the townhouse," Chuck stated the obvious. "It's the most ideal situation for everyone. That house is far too big for your mother, and she's hardly lived there for the past ten years. Plus, no one loves your childhood home more than Serena. Remember how she always used to volunteer your house for sleepovers? She would jump at the chance to move there, and live somewhere other than in an elevator building. And the bonus? You'd be moving into the district you need to be living in, for when you decide to run for Congress in a couple of years."

"Chuck," Nate said warningly. This was a very sore topic that was rarely discussed. The desire towards joining politics had increased since William van der Bilt's death four years ago, but the idea of inviting Tripp to be a regular part of their lives, loomed in the background.

Chuck threw up his hands in mock surrender. "It kills a dozen birds with one stone, just saying."

A frown marred Nate's face, but Chuck could see that his words were sinking in. With a sense of satisfaction, he smoothly changed the subject. "I'm taking Cole to the Rangers-Red Wings game next week, do you and Hunter want to join us?"

Nate hesitated for a moment. "I would have to bring Topher, too. The tantrum he would throw if he found out that we went to the game without him…"

"I'll arrange to get us tickets for a day game later in the month," Chuck said with understanding. Topher worshipped Cole, following him around every chance he got. And Chuck was hands down the four year old's favorite adult outside of his parents. He even insisted on dressing like the Bass men, which irked Serena to no end, as Chuck fueled the fire by buying the younger Archibald a dozen new bow ties each month. His sister regularly bemoaned that he already had one mini-Chuck in Cole and begged him not to corrupt her younger son's fashion sense.

"Why don't you take Brynn?" Nate suggested.

"She informed me last month that she finds the Knicks games more exciting, and that she doesn't like Rangers games because she can never see the puck," Chuck answered. He doesn't need to add that he was just happy that she was willing to go to a sporting event at all. It was his nonsensical way of connecting Cole and Brynn to Bart. The one time Bart had taken Chuck to a hockey game during senior year of high school, he had seen a whole different side of his father. He liked to think that if Bart were still around, that'd be the version of Bart his children would see, and the exact type of activity that Bart would want to take his grandchildren to.

"Sometimes I forget that Brynn is part you, she looks exactly like Blair did," Nate said fondly. "Well, except for her eyes."

Brynn had inherited her mother's porcelain skin, heart-shaped face, rosy cheeks and dimples. She was all Blair, except her eyes were the same amber shade as Chuck's. Her hair also was darker like his, which made her pale skin glow. Chuck smiled as he looked over at the jungle gym, his eyes quickly scanning to find his daughter. Once, twice, three times his eyes swept across the playground, unable to spot her dark brown curls anywhere. His heart tightened as he stood up.

"Brynn!" He called out. He spared Nate a quick glance. "Do you see Brynn or Hunter?"

"No, but I'm sure they're there." Nate's voice was slow and calm. He was no stranger to that fact that even ten years later, Chuck still carried the scars from what happened with Jack. Nate knew Chuck continued to have the irrational fear that someone might be lurking in the shadows, trying to destroy his family.

"Brynn!" Chuck called out again as he walked towards the play area. He tried not to panic as he looked around the jungle gym, his daughter nowhere to be seen. He told himself not to overreact and that everything would be okay.

Once, when Cole had been three years old, Blair had lost him while shopping at Bendel's. Blair had been near hysterical when she called him at work. He had left the office before she had even hung up. There had been this feeling Chuck had had whenever Cole would be out of his sight—it would take his breath away until he saw his son again.* It had been the most excruciating ninety minutes of parenthood he had ever experienced. Fortunately, they had discovered Cole fast asleep, hidden underneath a rack of scarves. Only then had Chuck been able to breathe.* He had no desire to have a similar incident with Brynn this afternoon.

"Chuck, I'm sure they're here," Nate tried to reassure. He yelled out his son's name before suggesting, "You go that way, I'll go the other."

They both walked slowly around the circular play area, as they bellowed out their respective child's name. Just as they met on the opposite side from where they stood, they spotted their not even remotely missing children—the six year olds stood facing each other, holding hands. The two watched in horror—or at least Chuck did—as Hunter leaned over and pressed his mouth to his daughter's, giving Brynn her first kiss.

"_Hunter_." Chuck snapped sternly.

Nate stifled a laugh.

The children pulled away from each other at the sound of Chuck's voice.

"Yes, Uncle Chuck?" Hunter turned towards him, his sandy blonde hair falling across his forehead and half-covering his innocent blue eyes. Brynn ran up to him, and Chuck automatically crouched down, allowing his daughter to throw her arms around his neck.

"What do you think you're doing?" Chuck questioned Hunter harshly, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. He squeezed his daughter tightly, and his heart slowed down to regain a less erratic rhythm now that she was safe in his arms.

"Brynn and I are going to get married," Hunter announced proudly, his eyes crinkling up like his mother's.

Nate coughed loudly in an attempt to hide his smile.

Chuck scowled. He opened his mouth to speak, but Nate nudged him hard in the stomach with his elbow and said, "Please remember that this is _my _son you're talking to, _your_ nephew."

The reminder was enough to stop Chuck from lashing out. While time had slightly dulled his sharp edges, he couldn't always control his reactions. He had been a second away from freaking out at the thought that his daughter was missing. But then his terror had been replaced with fatherly overprotection, witnessing his nephew/godson defile his daughter with a kiss. At this point, it was possible for Chuck to say just about anything.

"Daddy, you're hugging me too tight!"** Brynn complained.

"Sorry, baby," Chuck said as he loosened his grip. He pressed a kiss on her forehead and whispered in her ear, "I just love you so much."**

"I love you too!" His daughter giggled before kissing him on the cheek. She squirmed until Chuck set her down on the ground.

"Hunter, you and Brynn need to stay where we can see you. And _no kissing_," Nate instructed.

"Okay, Dad!" Hunter said easily, sunny disposition still intact. He turned towards Brynn, "C'mon, let's go swing."

Hunter offered Brynn his hand, and just as she was about to take it, she froze. She whirled around to face Chuck, her hands on her hips. Bossily, she asked, "Where's my backpack, Daddy? You're s'posed to be holding it."

His eyes swung to the bench that he and Nate had been occupying for the better part of the hour, and saw her lilac colored bag sitting next to Hunter's red one.

"It's right there," he pointed. "I'll get it now."

"Me and Hunter are gonna swing," Brynn said as she grabbed Hunter's hand and pulled him towards the swings.

"I'll go grab their bags," Nate offered.

Chuck nodded absently, his eyes glued to his little girl, as he followed the pair at a distance. He watched as Brynn hopped onto one of the empty swings, her hands clutching the metal chains tightly. Hunter pushed her until she was swinging high in the air, squealing loudly.

The nudge on his shoulder startled him, as Nate thrust the girly bag into his arms.

"We are _so_ Mr. Moms, right now," Nate said mournfully. "I would have never guessed that one day, I would be the one picking up my son after school, walking him to the park, and sitting on the bench waiting while he played."

Chuck looked down at the lilac bag that matched the ribbons Dorota had tied onto Brynn's pigtails that morning, and smiled. He was about to answer when he saw Nate's lips twitch. Chuck's eyes narrowed. He knew what his lighter-haired friend was up to, and he would not allow himself to be so easily diverted from the events that had just occurred.

"Yes, unfortunately _you _are the type of Mr. Mom that finds it acceptable to allow his son to molest an innocent and unsuspecting little girl," he said coolly. "If you and my sister are successful and do have a daughter of your own one day, I hope you won't have to witness the atrocity that I did."

"You're being melodramatic, Chuck," Nate said with a hint of exasperation. "They're just kids."

"You and Blair were 'just kids', too, and we all saw how long that lasted," he snapped. He started to mutter to himself, barely audible to his friend's ears, "I'll bet Hunter wishes he could _hunt her_. What kind of silly name is _Hunter_, anyway? Typical Serena move to name her son something that's more of a verb than a noun."

Nate sighed loudly. "Well, at least we know where our kids are. And you'll have to agree that catching them in the midst of a _harmless, adolescent _kiss, is vastly preferable to them being lost."

"Perhaps," Chuck acknowledged begrudgingly. And yet he couldn't stop himself from tacking on a childish parting shot, "But it makes me wonder how indulgent you might be if it were Cole and your as-yet-to-be-conceived-daughter."

"Chuck," Nate said wearily.

"What?" He challenged with a glare.

Nate just shook his head with resignation. "Does this mean that the boys and I are uninvited to dinner?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Chuck huffed. "Who's being melodramatic now?"

The old friends both smiled to themselves while they stood silently, watching their children continue to swing away in the afternoon sun.

.

.

.

"Bye, Uncle Nathaniel," Brynn said sweetly as she waved her free hand at him, the other hand firmly holding her father's.

"What happened to 'Uncle Natie'? And no hug?" Nate asked in mock despair.

"Daddy calls you Uncle Nathaniel, 'cept for the Uncle part," she explained with a shy smile, but Chuck noticed the twinkle in her eyes. His daughter was up to something. "I'm practicing to be like Daddy."

Nate knelt down so he was eye level to his niece and solemnly said, "Well, can your favorite uncle have a hug goodbye anyway?"

"I'm sorry Uncle Nathaniel, but you are not my favorite uncle," Brynn answered honestly. "Uncle Eric is."

Chuck didn't even try to hide his amusement, as his shoulders shook with laughter.

"Brynn Bass, you are breaking my heart," Nate said as he placed a hand on his chest, there was genuine hurt in his eyes.

"I didn't mean to," Brynn said worriedly as she watched her uncle's face fall. She tugged her hand from Chuck's and threw her arms around Nate to console him. "But Uncle Natie, you are the bestest uncle in the world."

"Well, if I can't be your favorite, I'll have to settle for being the bestest uncle in the world, I suppose."

"Don't worry, Dad," Hunter added. "I think Uncle Eric is the bestest uncle in the world."

Chuck found this development to be highly entertaining, and not even remotely insulting. Although, he didn't think Hunter realized that this was not the way to endear himself to his alleged future father-in-law.

It was Nate's turn to laugh.

Brynn dropped her arms from around her uncle and turned to frown at Hunter. "Take that back! My Daddy is the bestest!"

"No, Uncle Chuck is my _favorite_," Hunter disagreed pleasantly. "But Uncle Eric is the bestest, because when Topher and I stay with him, he lets us stay up all night and we get double desserts."

"No," Bryn argued, "That's why he's my _favorite_. But bestest means you love them more."

"Nuh-uh." Hunter shook his head. "I love Uncle Eric and Uncle Chuck the same."

"My mommy says that bestest means you love them the most. And my mommy is _never_ wrong."

"Only our children would play the semantics game at the tender age of six," Chuck murmured as the two children continued with their debate.

Nate snorted. "Clearly, Blair is to blame for this."

"I know," Chuck said, the pride in his voice unmistakable.

Nate rolled his eyes. "Okay, we should get going. We need to pick up Topher from the _bestest_ and _most favorite_ Uncle Eric's house, before we go home."

"Bye Uncle Chuck," Hunter said before giving him a quick squeeze.

"Goodbye, Hunter," Chuck replied with a smile. "We'll see you and your brother in a few hours."

"Kay! Bye Brynn!"

"Bye Hunter!"

The children waved at each other, while their fathers exchanged nods. Nate and Hunter headed one way, while Brynn took Chuck's hand and went in the opposite direction.

Barely a minute of silence had passed, when Brynn tugged on his hand so he would look at her.

"Daddy, is Cole spending the night at Grandma Rose's?"

"He is."

Brynn let out a theatrical sigh. "How come I wasn't invited?"

Chuck managed to stop from rolling his eyes, he knew exactly what his daughter was up to. Patiently, he answered, "Brynn, you know you've been invited to spend next Friday evening with Grandma and Grandpa Rose."

"I guess," she said as she gave him a sad, puppy dog face.

For the past couple of years, Eleanor and Cyrus had instituted taking only one of their grandchildren at a time for overnight visits—unless both Chuck and Blair were going out of town. Being that Blair and Aaron had been only children, the Roses wished to lavish the same type of attention upon Cole and Brynn, while ensuring that neither child felt slighted or favored. Plus, it allowed for Eleanor and Cyrus to form special bonds with each of them, through the different activities they planned. It meant a great deal to Blair that Eleanor not only wanted to spend time with her children, but that she was well aware of each grandchild's food preferences and bedtime rituals. Chuck was thrilled that his children had grandparents, _period_. He remembered being six, and how even though Bart had bought him every toy imaginable, it was the things money couldn't buy—like a mother and grandparents, a family—that he had wanted the most.

When Chuck didn't react, Brynn tried a different tactic. In a small, hesitant voice she asked, "Daddy?"

"Yes, Brynn?" The moment had arrived.

"Since Cole is having treats with Grandma and Grandpa, may I have an extra cookie when we get home?" She batted her eyes coquettishly.

Brynn looked so much like Blair in that moment, that his instinctive response was to say 'yes'. Lately, Brynn had taken to adopting her mother's mannerisms whenever possible. It was adorable and it made him love his daughter that much more.

"_Please_, Daddy, _please,_" Brynn begged as she tugged on his sleeve with both hands.

Truthfully, he didn't care how many cookies she ate or if having an extra one would spoil her appetite. However, the unspoken rules between Chuck and Blair dictated which parent was required to play disciplinarian at which time. It was paramount that these rules be abided by, if the Bass household was to run smoothly. It was important to Blair that she not follow in Eleanor's footsteps and give her daughter a negative self-image, and so Blair liked being able to say 'yes' to Brynn having an extra treat. Just like it was important for Chuck, that his son never felt like he was too busy for him, and every couple of months, Chuck would pull Cole out of school for an entire day of father-son bonding. And hence, it fell to Blair to ensure that her children had as close to perfect attendance records as possible. This was their chance to be the parents they never had.

Chuck raised a brow and asked a question he already knew the answer to, "And how many cookies are you supposed to have?"

"Two," Brynn answered honestly, before adding, "But sometimes Mommy let's me have three."

"I think two cookies are enough, Brynn," Chuck said firmly.

"But Daddy—."

"You'll already be having pizza for dinner, and Uncle Nate is bringing ice cream for dessert," he interrupted his daughter. "If you need more than two cookies to tide you over until dinner, you can ask Dorota to cut up some fruit, or you can have a yogurt."

Brynn stuck her lower lip out before mumbling, "Okay."

"You love yogurt," Chuck reminded his daughter. She loved it because she made it her goal to love everything her mother did, and that was Blair's normal breakfast.

"I know. But I love cookies, too," she said stubbornly.

"What if I let you have _one_ macaron instead of the _two_ sugar cookies?" He compromised, unable to resist spoiling her just a tiny bit. Her eyes lit up with excitement. Like mother, like daughter.

"But Daddy, we can't go to Laduree and only buy _one_ macaron. We _need _to buy at least _two_. It would be p—p—paw—," Brynn struggled to get the word out. Then with a look of triumph, she said, "Pawpostureous!"

"I believe the word is preposterous," he corrected, barely able to contain his laughter.

"That's what I said, pawpostureous," she again mispronounced the word.

This time, Chuck allowed himself a single chuckle, as he drolly observed, "I see someone's been listening to her mother."

"So can we buy two, and I can have half of each?" Brynn ignored his response and continued campaigning her cause. "Mommy always lets me have two because I always want pistachio _and_ salted caramel."

"You can only have one full one today," Chuck stressed clearly.

"And the other one tomorrow?" She asked hopefully.

"It will be open for discussion," he said ambiguously as he dug out his phone from his pocket, and held out a hand to his daughter. Brynn put her small hand in his, and walked quietly beside him as he made his call. As they reached the park's exit, they turned in the opposite direction of their home and towards Blair's second favorite French patisserie, as Pierre Hermes had _still_ not opened a shop in New York.

"Daddy?" Brynn asked a couple of minutes later, when they had made it through an entire block in silence.

"Yes?" He looked down to stare at her. Her brow was slightly furrowed as she appeared to be concentrating hard.

"How did you know you loved Mommy?"

A smile crossed his face as he recalled the conversation that took place on a rooftop the night before Blair's seventeenth birthday. "I couldn't sleep, I felt sick. Like there was something in my stomach…fluttering."

"Fluttering?"

"Fluttering," he confirmed softly. "I had butterflies."

"Butterflies are so pretty," Brynn said excitedly. "Did you catch them, Daddy? They always fly away so fast!"

"I didn't have to catch them, because they were already inside my stomach," he explained. "That's how I knew your Mommy was the one for me. Every time I would see her, the butterflies in my stomach would flutter."

Brynn stopped walking, her face scrunched up as she stared at his waist in disbelief. She poked a finger into his stomach. "Are they inside there? Right now?"

"They are," he confirmed. "They're resting, until Mommy comes back."

"Oh, they're sleeping," Brynn said with disappointment. "I wanna see them. Can you make them come out?"

"No one can see them, baby, they're not the real butterflies that fly outside. But whenever I see your Mommy, my heart starts to beat real fast," Chuck explained, as he bent over and placed a hand lightly on her chest. "It feels like there are a hundred butterflies in my stomach, flapping their wings."

"That sounds nice, Daddy."

"It is." He took her hand and they started walking again.

"I don't have butterflies in my tummy when I see Hunter," Brynn said and she seemed troubled by this fact.

_Yes!_ Chuck wanted to shout victoriously. He kept his face purposefully blank. "Not everyone has to have butterflies."

"They don't?"

"Everyone's different, Brynn."

"But I want Hunter to love me like you love Mommy. And if you have butterflies, he has to, too," she said seriously. "Does Mommy have butterflies in her tummy when she sees you?"

Chuck opened his mouth to answer, when he realized he didn't actually know the answer to that question. He could attest to the fact that he had heard Blair's breath catch, even seen the pulse at her throat countless times, but he had no firsthand knowledge of any reciprocal fluttering. He looked down to see Brynn staring up at him expectantly. "I don't know, baby, you'll have to ask her when she gets home."

Patting his hand comfortingly, his daughter reassured him, "I know Mommy has tummy butterflies for you."

"I hope so," he only partially teased.

She nodded fervently before she asked yet another seemingly innocent question, "Daddy, do you think Hunter likes me?"

This was _not_ a conversation he wanted to have with his daughter. Not when she was six years old. Not _ever_.

"How could he not?" Chuck evaded answering.

Again Brynn lapsed into silence, making him wonder what she was now thinking of. Her tiny little hand shifted so that her fingers now laced through his. She started to skip, forcing him to quicken his stride, so he could keep up with her.

"Well, Hunter kissed me and asked me to marry him. That makes him my Prince Charming," Brynn said authoritatively. "When we grow up, we're going to get married and live happily ever after."

Internally Chuck groaned, Brynn was entirely _too_ young to start a fairy tale complex. In fact, he'd like to side step any fixation with fairy tales, period. Although, he wasn't sure why he was even surprised by this development, Brynn was her mother's daughter through and through. The moment Blair and Serena had found out they were both pregnant, over six years ago, the two had not-so-secretly planned for some sort of union between their children. And while Chuck would concede that if would be silly to deny his grandchildren the luck of striking the genetic lottery, shouldn't he have at least a dozen years left before he had to meditate on this topic?

He noted in relief that they were less than a block away from Laduree. Tiredly, he asked, "Brynn, do you think you could do me a favor?"

"Sure, Daddy, _anything_." She smiled angelically as she swung the hand that held his back and forth.

"Do you think you could be a little less like your mother, and _not_ fall in love with an Archibald, the first chance you get?"

"You're so silly, Daddy," Brynn giggled. "Mommy can't love an Archibald, she can only love _you_!"

"That's what I told her, for _two years_," Chuck agreed. Obviously, Brynn inherited her common sense gene from _him_. "How did you get so smart?"

"Does that mean I can eat both macarons _today_?" She countered sneakily. "Or maybe, I deserve extra macarons?"

He crouched down in front of her, a few feet from the store's entrance. Pulling her close, so that his forehead touched hers, he affectionately rubbed his nose against his daughter's. He raised a hand and brushed her cheek with his thumb, before issuing a proposition, "If I buy you a _box_ of macarons, does this mean we can put your wedding with Hunter on hold?"

Brynn's eyes grew wide with excitement. "A whole box?" She asked eagerly, her head already nodding in agreement to his request.

"_But_, you can only eat one a day," Chuck said preemptively. "Although today, you can have _two_."

She kissed him on the cheek, grabbed his hand and pulled him to the store's entrance in a hurry. She was not keen on giving him the chance to change his mind. With a smug smile, he allowed himself to be tugged. He needed to savor this small victory, Brynn wouldn't always be six or as easily amenable to being bribed out of loving an Archibald with just a simple treat.

.

.

.

"Daddy, why are you sad?" Brynn inquired, as her eyes locked onto his through the mirror of her vanity. She sat on the bench, untying one of the ribbons in her hair.

He shook off the daze that he had been in, and pushed off from the door frame, that he had leaned against while watching his daughter. He walked over to her, and helped to remove the rubber bands that held her pigtails in place.

"Did you brush your teeth, baby?" He asked, sidestepping having to answer her question.

She nodded. "I flossed, too."

Chuck gave her a half-smile, amused by the fact that she seemed to be developing the same fixation with flossing that Cole had. "Would you like me to brush your hair?"

She smiled as she handed him the ornate, silver plated hair brush Harold and Roman had given her for Christmas—Harold had commissioned a set to replicate the one he had bought Blair when she had been Brynn's age. It was Blair's nightly tradition to brush Brynn's hair with one hundred strokes, and Chuck had filled in for her the past four evenings. Slowly, he began to brush the dark brown curls, starting at her scalp and all the way to the tips. He counted out each stroke in his head.

"Daddy, you didn't answer my question," Brynn said pointedly, a hint of seriousness in her eyes. She was still watching him closely through the mirror.

"What question was that?" Chuck asked, feigning cluelessness.

"Why are you sad?" She repeated.

He detected a slight note of impatience in her voice, and merely raised a brow. Only after he applied five more strokes of the brush, did he reply. "I'm not sad."

Brynn wrinkled her nose in disbelief, and swung around on the velvet-cushioned bench so she could stare at him. "You _seem_ sad."

Chuck cleared his throat and motioned for her to turn back around and face forward so he could continue with ritual. "Well, you're wrong. Why would you think that?"

She did as instructed, but instead of sitting still, she swung her legs back and forth. He sighed as he placed the brush down on the vanity desk, and pulled Brynn onto his lap.

"Brynn—." He was cut off when she turned around abruptly and placed her tiny hands on his cheeks.

"You're not smiling," she announced, as if that explained everything.

He graced her with a genuine smile, amused by her logic.

"And…" she added. "You're always sad when Mommy is gone."

Out of the mouth of babes, Chuck thought wryly. He debated for a moment how to respond to Brynn, especially since she wasn't entirely incorrect. He wasn't _sad _per se, but he always slept miserably without Blair next to him, and the years had taught him that more than three days apart from her, made him incredibly cranky. Just earlier that morning, he had been congratulating himself for having displayed none of his usual symptoms heading into their fifth day apart. And while he wanted nothing more than for Blair to enjoy her annual 'ladies only' trip with Serena, Kati and Is, he really didn't want to wait two more days for her to come home.

"That's because I miss Mommy when she's gone," Chuck admitted. "But I'm not sad, because I have you." He emphasized that point, by tapping Brynn lightly on her nose.

That seemed to suffice for an answer as she slid off his lap and back down onto the bench, waiting for him to resume the hair grooming process. Again, she handed him the brush, and he had her count with him out loud, the final forty-three strokes that were required. Once they were finished, she hopped off her seat, and skipped over to her bed.

"Can I have a bedtime story?" Brynn asked as Chuck tucked the dusty rose-colored comforter around her.

"Which story would you like me to read?" he said easily, as he walked over to the large bookcase a few feet away.

"Not a book, Daddy," Brynn shook her head. "I want you to tell me the story 'bout you and Mommy."

"That is a very, very long story, Brynn."

"It's ok. I _love_ long stories."

She patted the empty space next to her, and Chuck smiled as he went to sit next to her. Brynn moved to lie down on her side, her hands tucked underneath her pillow, the excitement in her eyes unmistakable. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out next to her, mirroring her pose.

"Did you know, Daddy? Did you know the first time you saw Mommy that you loved her?"

"I wish I could say that I did, baby, but I didn't."

"But Daddy, Mommy is the most beautiful woman in the world!" Brynn said, as though she was scandalized by her father's lack of vision. "Did you wear glasses when you were little?"

"No, but maybe I should've," he said playfully.

"You're lucky that Mommy didn't hold a g—gr—."

"Grudge?" Chuck supplied.

"Grudge," Brynn repeated.

"Oh, but she did, and she still does," Chuck affirmed. "Maybe not for the reason you think, but trust me when I tell you, your mother is the _best_ grudge holder in the entire world."

Brynn smiled with relief.

"Gee, Brynn," he said sarcastically. "I can see that you love your mother more than you love me."

Instead of replying, Brynn just buried her face in her pillow and giggled.

"Don't you think that maybe _I_ should hold a grudge against _her_, for not realizing how handsome and debonair and charming I was? That she dated Uncle Nate for _forever_, and picked him over me? More than once!" His tone was light and playful, which more accurately reflected his feelings than his outburst at the park, earlier that day. There had been so many twists and turns in his relationship with Blair, every decision they made seemed to set them on a completely different course. The only thing he knew, was that each path always ended with them together, and that was all that mattered.

"Maybe Mommy had a good reason?" Brynn defended her mother. But then she reached out her hand and petted him on the shoulder. "Maybe she needed glasses, too?"

"No, baby, neither of us needed glasses," Chuck said. "The one thing I know for sure, is that your mother and I have always seen exactly who each other was."

"Then why didn't you know when you saw each other?" Brynn asked curiously.

"We didn't know right away. But once we figured it out, we weren't ready to tell each other."

"Why not?"

"Because we were both very scared."

"You were 'fraidy cats?"

"You could say that."

Brynn shook her head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Because when you love someone as much as your Mommy and I love each other, it means that they have a lot of power over you. They can hurt you in ways you never thought possible."

"Power is the ultimate weapon," Brynn parroted her mother.

"Yes," Chuck agreed. "And when your Mommy finally gave me a chance, I ended up hurting her very much."

"Why, Daddy? Why would you do that?" Brynn asked worriedly.

"Because I was being the _biggest_ 'fraidy cat in the world," Chuck admitted.

"You didn't make her cry, Daddy, did you?"

"Many times." Brynn gasped. "But your Mommy made me cry, too."

His daughter pushed up, so that she was propped up on her elbows, her chin in her resting in her palms, and her eyes were wide with amazement. "But…but…but Mommy is perfect!"

"Yes, she is." Chuck concurred. "But we were very young. And sometimes, when you find someone you love that much, so early in your life, you make lots of mistakes. Because you think that you have all the time in the world to make everything perfect, even when maybe you don't."

"Daddy, this is a sad story," Brynn said with a frown, her eyes drooping slightly.

"I know, baby," Chuck said as he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his daughter's ear. "But it has a happy ending. Because I love your Mommy more than anything, so we made you and Cole."

"And you'll never stop loving her, right?" She demanded.

"Never."

With a satisfied look on her face, Brynn rested her head back down on her pillow and yawned loudly. "Will you sleep here tonight? I don't want you to be lonely because Mommy's not here. I can keep you company."

Chuck smiled at her sweetness, as the back of his fingers brushed against her cheek, the skin still baby soft. He thought back to when Cole was younger and Blair was out of town, they would build forts together, and Chuck would spend the night in there with his son. His daughter's full-sized bed was a dozen times more comfortable than the sleeping bags Cole would insist on using. Maybe this once, he would stay here with Brynn. Before he could agree to her request, they were interrupted by a voice coming from the doorway.

"Daddy should probably sleep in his own bed tonight. You're a big girl now, Brynn."

His daughter bolted up at the sound of her mother's voice, while Chuck turned around slowly, uncertain if it was just a trick of his mind.

"Mommy! Daddy said you weren't coming home until Sunday!" Brynn said happily, as she climbed over him in her haste to get to her mother. She ran up to Blair and gave her a big hug and a kiss, before blabbering in a rush, "Daddy and I missed you so much! But I think Daddy missed you more than I did. Did you miss me? Did you bring back a present for me and Cole?"

"Cole and I, sweetheart," Blair corrected automatically. She combed Brynn's hair with her fingers, but her eyes were locked on his. "Of course I missed you, Cole and _Daddy_."

Brynn tugged on her mother's arm, "What did you bring me?"

"Brynn," Chuck warned his daughter sternly, as he sat upright on the bed, slipping his shoes back on.

"Sorry, Daddy!" His daughter said apologetically. She turned to her mother, and solemnly said, "Sorry, Mommy."

Chuck and Blair exchanged smiles.

"That's all right, Brynn. But it looks like your Daddy let you stay up past your bedtime," Blair stated.

"He was telling me a story," Brynn explained.

"That was very nice of him. But let's get you to bed, and when Cole comes home tomorrow, I'll give you your presents," Blair suggested. "How does that sound?"

"Okay, Mommy." She waited for Blair to lean over, and Brynn gave her mother a goodnight kiss, before going back to her bed. She crawled onto the bed, and hugged him. "Night, Daddy."

"Night, baby," he said, as he kissed the top of her head.

"Mommy, tuck me in," Brynn demanded, as only a well-loved child could do.

Blair smirked as she made her way over towards the bed. As Chuck stood up so she could sit, Blair's hand intentionally grazed his, shooting a spark of excitement to accompany the fluttering in his stomach. He had to stop himself from grabbing a hold of her and kissing her hello, reminding himself of their six year old who did not need to witness the amorous actions of her parents.

"Were you a good girl for Daddy?" Blair asked their daughter, as she tucked her in, just as Chuck had done, minutes ago.

Brynn nodded sleepily. "So good, and Daddy bought me a box of macarons from Laduree. Don't worry, Mommy I got you an Orange Blossom one, your favorite."

"_Really?_" His wife asked quietly, but Chuck knew she wasn't upset.

"Uh-huh. Daddy got mad at Hunter, because he kissed me after he asked me to marry him. And Daddy said if I promised not to fall in love with an Archibald, like you did, I could have a box of macarons," Brynn answered, trying hard not to yawn.

Blair's head whipped around to look at him, and Chuck made sure to look in any direction _except_ the one in which his wife sat. Fortunately, Brynn's next words regained her attention.

"Mommy, do you have tummyflies?"

Blair crooked her head and looked at her daughter strangely. "What are tummyflies?"

"The butterflies in Daddy's tummy when he sees you," Brynn explained as she opened an eye to look curiously at her mother.

Blair's entire countenance shifted, and her face softened.

"Do you have tummy butterflies when you see Daddy?" Brynn asked again.

Blair leaned over and kissed Brynn on the forehead before whispering loudly enough for Chuck to hear, "Of course I do, sometimes just from thinking about him."

"Good, Mommy, because I think Daddy was worried that you didn't," Brynn informed her.

"Well, that's just the silliest thing I ever heard."

"Don't hold a grudge, Mommy. Daddy says you're the best at that."

"Did he, now?"

"Yup." Brynn snuggled closer into the pillow, and her breathing grew slow and steady. "I'll tell you all the things Daddy said at breakfast. Tell him to makes us crepes, Mommy, with berries."

Blair smiled as she leaned over and smoothed Brynn's hair. "I think that can be arranged for my number one spy."

"_Bestest_ spy," Brynn mumbled.

Blair stood up and made her way out of the room, flipped off the light switch, and quietly closed the door.

.

.

.

"So you have my daughter spying on me?" Chuck murmured into her ear, as she unknowingly stepped into his embrace. He burrowed his face into her neck as his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He smiled as she relaxed against him.

"It's good for her to learn how to stealthily abstract information from unsuspecting targets at a young age," Blair said with a wicked chuckle. But her hands found his, linking their fingers together, while she tilted her head to allow him better access to her neck.

He bit down lightly, causing her to whimper. Suddenly, she turned around and pinned him against the wall, kissing him intensely as her body fit tightly against his. It was a battle of tongue and teeth, both of them emerging victorious, as they finally pulled away to catch their breath.

"I missed you," Blair whispered, as her nails gently scraped his scalp.

"I missed you more," he whispered back, leaning in to drop a kiss on her mouth. Wanting to savor his wife in a more leisurely fashion, he reached for her hand and led her down the hall and into their bedroom. "Not that I'm complaining, but is there any particular reason you came home early?"

Blair snuggled against him, as they lay on the bed, her hand tracing patterns on his chest. "It's official. The four of us are getting old. We were all ready to come home early because we missed our husbands and children. But, truthfully, I think they were just tired of listening to me whine how I hadn't gotten a good night's sleep. The hotel even swapped out the mattress in my room."

"Seems like I'm not the only one who has trouble sleeping alone," he said knowingly.

"Kati suggested we take two shorter trips from now on, instead of the full week we've done the past couple of years," Blair continued. "Seven days is far too long."

"I concur." Chuck pressed feather-light kisses across her face, before he said, "Note how Nate and I normally only want to get away for thirty six hour stretches at best?"

His wife gave an unladylike snort. "That probably has more to do with both your unflagging libidos. Heaven forbid either of you go forty-eight hours without sex."

"I'll have you know we're hovering close to one hundred and thirty, and right now, I'm just happy that you're home, Blair," Chuck said with a frown. "Why are you talking about Nate's libido?"

"You're the one who brought him up. And before you ask, I know about Nate's libido for the same reason Serena knows about _yours_," Blair said in a patronizing voice, before she leaned over and kissed him sweetly. "Your crankiness is showing."

"It is," he agreed and pulled her against him, so she was sprawled on top of him. As he ran his arms up and down her back, he detected a slight stiffening of her limbs.

A beat later, she asked, "Chuck?"

"Yeah, Blair," he answered evenly.

"I want to have another baby," she said unceremoniously.

He sighed loudly. "What's wrong with our family the way it is? Cole and Brynn are practically perfect, it's going to be near impossible to top them. Not to mention, Dr. Ruggio said that there could be complications if you got pregnant again. You seem to forget how annoyed you were with bed rest for the last three months of Brynn."

"I remember," she said softly. "And there's nothing wrong with our family. It's just that I really want another one, Chuck. A bigger family would be nice."

"Do you realize how good we have it? In less than a dozen years, Brynn will be going off to college, and it'll just be you and me, alone again. Our children are potty trained, can bathe themselves, and are apparently trained spies. Do you really want to go through it all over again? Morning sickness? The swollen feet? Being tired all the time? Breast feeding? Teething? Baby-proofing the penthouse?" He challenged her, making sure to point out the laundry list of things he was sure she had already considered.

"You're forgetting the first time we feel the baby kick. Or when we get the first ultrasound. The moment the baby comes into the world and grabs our fingers. The first words, the first steps, the first everything. The realization that _we _made this tiny little creature, and he or she is ours to love and protect," Blair added as she intertwined their fingers together. "There are just as many good things, if not more, Chuck."

He heard the hesitation in her voice, and deduced what this was really about. Blair wasn't so much discussing having a baby, as she was _asking _for him to let her have another one. He knew she still smarted from the fact that he had only used his veto power once, and that had been to force her compliance to adhere to bed rest during her pregnancy with Brynn. And now, the look on her face told him that she was terrified that he would use his veto power again—effectively quashing the possibility of adding one more child to their family.

"Veto power does not apply in this case, Blair," Chuck said seriously.

"We agreed, _non-negotiable_," she reminded him.

"Are you kidding me?"

"No," she insisted. "Because if it was me, I'd use it in this situation."

"If it was you," he said wryly, "you would have used all three of veto powers within the first year."

"True," she said with chagrin. "But, Chuck—."

"I can't lose you," he interrupted her. "I didn't think I was going to make it through last time, Blair. I worried every second of every day that something would happen to you, or Brynn, or even worse, both of you."

"You won't lose me."

"You can't promise me that."

"I know."

He laid there in silence.

"Don't get mad, but I saw Dr. Ruggio last week."

"Of course you did."

"She said that while getting pregnant would be risky, if I were extra careful, there's no reason why we couldn't have another baby."

"You're _positive_ this is what you want?" Chuck asked her, as he looked into her eyes.

"I am, but you have to want it, too," Blair said solemnly.

"I want you to be happy," he said tenderly.

"I already am."

"Well then let's see if I can't make you even happier."

Blair smiled, her hand lovingly stroked the side of his face. "Really?"

"Really," Chuck said. "_But_, you have to know, that I will most likely smother you even _more_ than I did during the final months with Brynn."

"I would expect nothing less," Blair said, her eyes twinkling happily.

"And if there is even the remotest possibility, that I could lose you—."

"I promise," Blair cut him off before he could finish the thought. "If it comes to that, I promise I understand, and I promise that I won't be mad."

"You say that now," Chuck said worriedly. "But in the moment, you can't control everything."

"I know that," Blair said quietly. "But I know that the thought of not being with you for the rest of both of our lives is something I won't risk. We've fought too hard for what we have now."

"You sure?" Chuck asked one final time.

"As sure as I am about how much I love you."

He lowered his face so his lips hovered above hers. Unable to keep the smile off his face, he said, "Then I say we should get started on number three."

.

.

.

_**fin**_

* * *

* both from Mosely Lane – 5x16

** both from 100 – 5x09


End file.
